Patented Eye Failure

Patented Eye Failure

‘How many times do I have to ask you to leave?’ the receptionist banged her head against her desk.

‘No, no, hear me out!’ David nodded excitedly. ‘He’ll want to see me for this one!’

‘Look,’ the receptionist sighed, lifting her face from the pile of papers in front of her. ‘You seem like a swell guy—’

‘Thank you,’ David grinned.

‘But you clearly don’t understand how the world works.’

His face fell. ‘What do you mean?’

‘You think that you can just waltz in here with some half-dead gizmo,’ she said, pointing at his latest invention on the waiting room table, ‘and get a meeting with one of the top investors in the country?’

‘It’s gonna change the world!’ he insisted.

Something shorted in its circuitry and sparks shot into the air. The receptionist frowned at him, shifting away from anger and closer to concern.

‘Do you need some sort of eye specialist. Brighton has tonnes of great options, let me print you off a list…’

‘No,’ he sighed, dejected. ‘Thank you for your time.’

‘No worries,’ she said with a smile, thrilled at the prospect of him actually leaving. ‘You take care, now.’

He smiled weakly, politely, and trudged weakly back over to pick up his machine.

‘Wait,’ the receptionist called out, pity overriding her desire to be rid of the pesky man. ‘At least tell me what it does?’

‘So you can run and give the idea to your boss?’ David glared at her.

‘It’s patented, isn’t it?’ she frowned right back, rolling her eyes at the resulting awkward pause. ‘You were going to bring it to a notorious business shark without getting it protected first?’

‘I’ve been busy,’ David said meekly.

‘Busy,’ she sighed. ‘A normal optometrist might not cut it with you.’


‘Yeah,’ she said. ‘Might need to look up how to find a good behavioural optometrist instead.’

‘Right,’ he frowned. ‘Look, I’ve got a bus to catch—’

‘Don’t let me keep you,’ the receptionist said, immediately reclining back on her chair and kicking her feet up on the desk.